Snapped
by Lady Bracknell
Summary: Tonks and Remus are on a mission at Octavia's New Age Emporium, but despite being surrounded by crystal balls, when things go wrong, neither of them sees it coming.


**Disclaimer: Anything you've seen before isn't mine, but JK Rowling's. Unfortunately ;). **

**A/N: This was originally written for the second round of the Metamorfic Moon Fic Jumble, where I was randomly assigned the prompts: a shopping centre, Exploding Snap Cards, a day of battle, and angst. This is what I came up with. It won an award for outstanding action sequence, incidentally…. ;).**

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"Snap!"

They'd been playing for about half an hour, and even though Tonks had only a single figure stack compared to Remus' sound handful of cards, it hadn't dented her enthusiasm for the game. The pile of cards Remus had his hand over gave a vague hiccough of an explosion, and a small puff of smoke drifted up between his fingers. He added them to his pile, and turned to Tonks. "How much longer shall we give it?"

Tonks eyed the interior of the storeroom wearily, while he shot a glance at the magical map he'd made the night before of the shop's interior, and, finding only themselves, Octavia Harwood – the shop owner – and a Muggle customer who looked to be on his way out, he settled back on his stool.

They'd been holed up in the stuffy, patchouli-scented, store cupboard of Octavia's New Age Emporium, surrounded by newly boxed crystal balls, healing crystals in a variety of colours that promised to cure everything from bunions to broken hearts, and onyx statues of generic dragons, for nigh on four hours, and they were both starting to suspect that Dung's tip-off was about as accurate as his aim and as thoroughly researched as his personal hygiene rituals.

"An hour?" she said, the corner of her eyes crinkling in displeasure he definitely shared at the thought. "Two, at most, I reckon. Shop'll be closed, then, won't it?"

Remus hummed his reply, and threw a card onto the small, conjured, table between them. Jack of hearts. Tonks threw down an ace, her nose wrinkled in concentration, her hand poised just above the pile. He followed with the eight of clubs, she added the two of diamonds, and he put down the seven of spades. "What do you think of all this stuff?" she said, gesturing vaguely to the inside of the storeroom before her hand returned to hover over the pile of cards between them. "Crystal balls for Muggles?"

"I've read about a great many Muggle Seers," Remus said. "Although I daresay a lot of people just end up using them as paperweights."

Tonks chuckled softly. "That's what I use mine for."

"Really?" he said, sitting forward a little, hoping he didn't seem too eager to hear a little snippet of detail from her life. "Divination not your thing?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "According to Trelawney," she said, "I – " She adopted a tone that was spookily redolent of the Divination teacher and raised her eyebrows to give her a suitably dreamy expression. " – lack the proper spirit and any semblance of discipline." Tonks' eyebrow inched marginally higher, and when she continued, she dropped the voice. "With my unfocused energy, apparently, it's a wonder I can see the ground beneath my feet, let alone anything more…inspirational."

"Given that tumble you took getting onto the escalator," Remus said, "I'd say she had a point."

Tonks' cheeks coloured a little, and she slapped him playfully on the arm. "What about you? Were you her star pupil?"

"She was before my time, sadly," Remus said. "Shame, really. I'm sure Sirius, James and I would have had acres of fun researching the most terrifying portents of doom and pretending to see them in our tea leaves." Tonks laughed. "She offered to crystal gaze for me, once," he said.

"What did she see?"

"No idea," he said. "I made a run for it before she could so much as utter the words 'pass the rose quartz'."

"Chicken."

"Indeed. There's probably a healing crystal for that. I should look into it while we're here."

Tonks sniggered, and then her attention turned back to the game, and she threw down the nine of clubs. "How about the love spells?" she said, as he tossed down the eight of diamonds. "Do you reckon any of them work?"

He considered saying something flirtatious about someone like her, surely, not needing a love spell to get a man, or a question about whether she had anyone in particular in mind, but ultimately he thought better of it. "I wouldn't have thought so," Remus said. "Octavia'd be overrun with customers if her love spells actually helped grease the wheels of romance. There's hardly been a soul in all day."

"Odd choice of career for a witch," Tonks mused, raising her remaining cards to her face and bouncing them slightly on her lower lip.

"Mmm. I like the dragons, though," Remus said. "She spell-carves them herself, apparently."

"Really?"

"Hmm. And some of the artwork's very…imaginative."

He raised an eyebrow at her, and Tonks eyed him warily, as if she wasn't quite sure whether or not he was joking. "That's what you're getting for your birthday, then," she said, "one of the little dragons playing football with a fake carnelian."

Remus chuckled. Tonks played the six of spades, and he followed with the four. Tonks threw down the three of hearts, and Remus matched it with its diamond counterpart. "Snap!"

He dropped his hand over the pile, and a millisecond later, Tonks' fingers settled on top of his. He looked up as the pleasant shiver that any momentary physical contact with her brought coursed through him, and met her eye, trying not to let the increased tempo of his heartbeat, or the overwhelming pounding of his blood in his veins, or the tightening in his stomach, show on his face. She met his gaze with a determined yet annoyed frown, and as she released his fingers and he scooped the cards into his pile, he grinned.

"You couldn't just let me win one, could you?" she said, shuffling her three remaining cards.

"Surely, Tonks," he said, fixing her with a mock stern look that was possibly a little more flirtatious than he intended and entirely too flirtatious for a supply cupboard, "you'd find a victory you only had because I let you have it rather hollow?"

She raised an eyebrow at him slowly, the briefest fraction of a smile tugging on one corner of her mouth. "Suppose I'll never know, now, will I?" she said. "Because you insisted on winning like a big git."

He feigned offence, and she sniggered quietly to herself. "Is there any point me playing my last three cards, or shall I just concede defeat?" she said.

"Up to you entirely," he said, "but I never took you for a quitter."

Tonks rolled her eyes, and he played his next card. Ace of spades. Tonks hummed the riff, and he smiled at her briefly. She played the queen of diamonds, he the two of clubs, she the nine of hearts, he the four of hearts, and she the six of clubs. She offered her empty palms to him and said, wearily, "You win."

"Do you want to play again?" he said, scooping the entire deck into his hand and shuffling them. Tonks shook her head.

"Three defeats in a row's enough for me to take the hint."

The pack of cards in his hand emitted another puff of smoke and made a vaguely apologetic attempt at an explosion. Remus looked at them quizzically as they smouldered in his hand. "How long have you had these, anyway?"

"Since I was eleven."

"So about five years, then?" he said, and she punched him on the arm. He backed away and rubbed at the spot she'd pummelled for effect, banging his elbow on the shelf behind him, which hurt far more than her admonishing punch for the jibe about her age had. "The fight rather seems to have gone out of them," he said, putting the deck neatly back into their worn sleeve and handing them to her.

"Hmm," she said, sliding the deck into the pocket of her too baggy jeans. "If this tip-off of Dung's ever does the decent thing and turns up so I can nab him, maybe I'll use the rest of the shift to go to Diagon Alley and get some new ones."

Remus stretched, and the conjured stool beneath him creaked worryingly. "Hmm," he said, stifling a yawn.

"Reckon they'll show up?" she said.

"I don't know," he said, wiggling his toes in his shoes to try and keep them from going to sleep. "It's getting late. We should stay until Octavia's gone – see her home, maybe."

"Hmm." She nodded faintly, and then her forehead creased with concern. "Who d'you reckon they'll send? He won't come for it himself, will he?"

"I wouldn't have thought so," Remus said, offering Tonks a reassuring smile he wasn't certain she needed. "More his style to scare one of his minions into doing it for him."

"All sounds a bit dodgy to me," Tonks said. "Some overheard whisper about a _special item_ getting accidentally delivered to a Muggle New Age shop instead of Borgin and Burkes."

"I've heard stranger tales," he said.

"What d'you reckon it is?"

Remus stiffened a little in his chair. "No idea," he said. "Given Borgin and Burkes' catalogue, I'm not sure that's something I'm overly bothered about finding out."

Tonks stretched her arms over her head, and Remus tried not to look at the inch or so of skin the action revealed above her belt. She brought her hands down into her lap, and met his eye with something that looked like flirtatious coyness, although he wasn't sure it was. "You could tag along, if you fancied," she said.

As their eyes locked, the air seemed to thicken around them, and Remus swallowed. "To Borgin and Burkes?"

"No," she said, rolling her eyes. "To buy me some new Exploding Snap Cards." Remus started to shake his head, but she interrupted his refusal. "Oh go on," she said. "Might be fun."

He hummed non-committally.

It wasn't that the idea of spending the rest of the day in Diagon Alley with Tonks didn't sound appealing – in fact, that was the problem. It was all too appealing a prospect.

Remus knew that Tonks wanted to be more than friends – she'd not come out and said it, as such, but he thought he knew enough about the kind of things witches did when they wanted to get closer to a wizard to recognise the signs. Merlin knows he'd seen it enough at Hogwarts with Sirius and James.

It wasn't that he didn't want to be more than friends either; he did. It was just – well, he couldn't help thinking that someone like Tonks deserved more than a decrepit old wizard with greying hair and a monthly appointment with another woman who was all too cruel a mistress.

Tonks would get tired, soon enough, of her attempts to subtly persuade him that more wasn't necessarily a problem, and move on. He only hoped they could still be friends, because the thought of not having her in his life at all…. His insides twisted painfully.

"Or we could stay here?" Tonks offered, her eyes lighting up hopefully. "I mean we are in a shopping centre. Maybe I should get some Muggle playing cards instead, you know, to be different. Where'd you suppose I'd go to get some of those?"

"Toy shop?" Remus said, scratching his jaw absentmindedly.

"You think? I bet they've got one here. They're fascinating things, aren't they?"

"Shopping centres?" he said, and Tonks nodded. "Are they?" he said, biting back a chuckle at her enthusiasm for something so mundane.

"Are to me," she said. "All those different kinds of shops under one roof so you don't have to go out in the rain – very ingenious."

"I suppose I never thought of it like that."

"So that's all sorted, then?" Tonks said, her voice lilting hopefully and her eyes sparkling. "We'll find a toy shop and then maybe afterwards we can have a look round – go somewhere you'd like to. Maybe we could get something to eat – "

"I'm not sure I have the time."

Tonks' face fell a little, and the sparkle in her eyes dulled. "I didn't think Moody had anything else scheduled for us today," she said.

"No, he doesn't, but – "

"Look, if you don't want to spend the rest of the day with me, just say so," Tonks said, fiddling with a loose thread on her jeans. After a moment, she looked up expectantly, evidently wanting, hoping for, him to leap in with a vehement proclamation that that wasn't the case at all.

Remus closed his eyes briefly, unable to take the hopeful look she was giving him any longer. "It's not that. I just – "

He stopped. He didn't really have any idea what he was trying to say. He didn't know how to put her off without telling her the absolute truth, without revealing the thought that had sat so heavily on his chest for months now – that he just wasn't what she needed. She was far too precious to him for him to give in to selfish desires and let her ruin her life for the likes of him. Telling her that, admitting that, out loud, was the very last thing he wanted to do. But he didn't want to hurt her, either, and the two seemed frighteningly mutually exclusive.

Tonks sighed, and went back to toying with the loose thread on her jeans.

In the absence of anything better to do, Remus watched, and, after a moment, she seemed to snap out of it, and sat back, leaning on the shelves behind her. "You know I – y'know – like you," she said, glancing up apprehensively.

He offered her a faint smile. "I can't say it had entirely escaped my notice," he said softly, his heart pounding a fierce drum beat in his chest.

"And I know – well, I _think_ you feel the same."

All of a sudden, the vague patchouli scent of the storeroom felt overpowering, and the packed shelves seemed to loom above him, menacingly. Remus' faint smile became even fainter and more strained, and he couldn't meet her eye any longer for fear of what the hopeful look in them might compel him to do. He studied a worn patch on his trouser knee, running his forefinger over the separating threads, trying to make a mental note to patch them later, pretending that there was any thought in his head other than how much he wanted to take her in his arms and…. "You know I care for you a great deal," he said, quietly. "I value your friendship – "

"Friendship, Remus?" she said, a note of disdain for the word creeping into her voice.

"Don't underestimate it."

Tonks frowned and folded her arms across her chest. "I'm not. I just – when I said I liked you I meant – "

"Don't," he said, meeting her eye with warning glance. He couldn't bear for her to go on, to have her spell it out for him, and to still have to refuse her.

"Why not?"

He looked away again, scanning the shelves for a distraction and finding nothing in particular to take his mind off the pounding of his heart, the vice-like grip panic had on his throat. "People are supposed to be pleased when you tell them you fancy them," Tonks muttered. "Even if they're not interested, most people take it as a compliment. You look like a cow who's just found out the only thing in its future is a career as a Quaffle."

Under any other circumstance, Remus would have laughed like someone hit with a dozen cheering charms at her metaphor. Instead, he ran a hand over his jaw, wondering what to say. "It's not that I don't…."

He trailed off, offering his palms to the ceiling, wondering if he'd ever felt so inadequate. "Don't what?" Tonks prompted.

He took a quick, steadying breath, letting it out slowly through his nose and trying to quell the rising panic he felt. "It's not that I don't – appreciate you saying that. I do take it as a compliment – a big one – the biggest. And it's not as though I can claim with a clear conscience that the feeling isn't mutual. "

"Then why – "

"It's not as simple as – "

"Isn't it?"

"No," he said sharply, running his hands through his hair. He met her eye apologetically. "You know it isn't," he added softly.

Tonks sighed. "I'm not asking for a guaranteed happy ever after, Remus," she said, "just the chance to spend some time together and test the waters a bit. I don't see what's so frightening or dangerous about that."

He winced rather unintentionally. Of course she wouldn't see how frightening or dangerous it was to just go out. She was young – she probably went out for speculative, test-the-waters evenings with blokes all the time. She couldn't possibly know how dangerous or frightening him giving in to the idea of being with her was – she didn't know how in over his head he felt, or how he was determined that he wouldn't give in to his feelings, because she deserved so much more than he could ever realistically have to offer.

She raised her eyebrows at him in question, a smile playing on her lips. He wondered if she was taking his silence for a sign that she'd won him round, and looked away. "I just think it's best if we don't start down a path we can't follow to its conclusion."

"Why the hell can't we – "

"Because it's not fair," he snapped.

"Fair?" she said. "What's fair got to do with – "

The door slammed open, cutting Tonks off and saving Remus from answering. Octavia Harwood's podgy, fraught, face appeared in the gap. "Don't panic," she said, wringing her hands, "but I think he's here."

Remus checked the map. As the bell above the door tinkled, a new dot appeared, and the name above it chilled him right to the core.

* * *

Tonks morphed some more New Age-y hair – long, dark red replaced the turquoise spikes she had been sporting – and transfigured her jeans and T shirt into a long, tie dye cardigan and a purple skirt with tassels around the bottom, hoping to fit in. She shot Remus a glance to ask if he really thought they were going to be able to pull this off, and when he nodded, she opened the supply cupboard door and inched out into the shop. 

The man stood, leaning heavily on the counter, drumming his yellow nails on the glass, his dark robes taut across his chest. The trinkets on display tinkled slightly – far too joyful a sound to accompany the pounding in Tonks' chest. She fingered the wand she had concealed just inside her floaty tie dye sleeve, and approached a group of Muggle schoolgirls who were perusing a selection of books on love spells. She cleared her throat to attract their attention, quietly told them that the shop was closing early today, and ushered them out of the door as quietly as she could. She was very glad that Octavia's New Age Emporium was not exactly popular and less than overrun with customers.

She scanned the interior, taking in every blue velvet-draped corner, making sure she hadn't missed anyone, and all innocent bystanders were out of the way. As slowly as she could, she turned the sign on the door from 'Come on in!' to 'Sorry, we're closed', cast a furtive Disillusionment charm on the shop window to make it look as if nothing was amiss, and took a shuddering breath.

Fenrir Greyback.

They'd never expected him to come for the package himself.

* * *

Remus hovered by the door to the store cupboard, his wand trained squarely on Greyback's chest through the crack, assuring Octavia Harwood in hushed tones, without looking at her, that everything was going to be all right. 

He should have gone out there himself, faced Greyback man to man, or werewolf to werewolf. He shouldn't have let Tonks talk him into her going out there and trying to fool Greyback into thinking she was the owner. He shouldn't have put her in danger –

Greyback spoke, and his bark of a voice set the hairs on the back of Remus' neck on edge. They bristled, and he tensed, gripping his wand all the more tightly, making sure he had a clear shot.

Remus peered out into the shop.

"You have something for me?" There was a sneer in Greyback's voice, and for a moment Remus feared, though he knew it was utterly irrational, that Greyback knew exactly what Tonks was to him, and he'd hurt her for that reason.

Tonks smiled, and actually pulled off not looking scared. Remus was impressed with her cool in the situation, although it didn't do anything to quell the rising panic. "Certainly," she said, pleasantly. "Quite a mix up, wasn't it?"

She crossed the shop and disappeared behind the counter, her absurd purple skirt swishing as she walked.

Remus swallowed. The original plan had been that they would let Octavia play decoy – pretend to be handing over the package, and then they'd nab the Death Eater in question and keep the package for Bill Weasley to look at before they risked opening it.

They'd assured Octavia that it was a good plan – entirely safe, for they'd only be feet away, with two of them ready to spring into action the second a wand was raised – but Greyback didn't need a wand to be dangerous, and now Tonks was taking Octavia's place, Remus shuddered at the thought that she wasn't quite safe enough for his liking.

"Interesting supplier," Tonks said, as if she was making small talk with an old lady at a summer fete rather than the most notorious werewolf in existence. "Would you recommend them? Only I've had terrible trouble getting – "

"The package," Greyback said, his voice veiled with a lazy threat.

"No need to be snippy," Tonks said, reaching behind the counter. Greyback's nails drummed the glass. Remus was sure his heart was beating the same rhythm. "What is it, anyway, this _special item_? Forgive me for saying so, but you don't exactly look like the kind of man who'd be interested in a CD of whale music."

Greyback sneered, his top lip curling back over his pointed teeth. Remus' heart skipped a beat. Greyback was annoyed. He tightened his grip on his wand, his skin prickling with anticipation and fear. "You're stalling," Greyback said, his voice low, raspy and menacing.

"Don't be daft," Tonks said. "I've got what you want right here."

She produced the small, brown paper-wrapped box from behind the counter, and held it out in front of her, revealing the wand held firmly in her other hand. Greyback registered the wand, and then made a grab for the package, but Tonks snatched it away, holding it just out of his reach. "Reckon if you tell me what it is and what you want it for, I'll make sure you get one of the nicer cells in Azkaban," she said.

Remus watched, alert and twitchy with adrenalin, as Greyback tensed – but he knew Greyback wasn't rattled by her threat at all. He was just annoyed not to have what he wanted already. And worse than that, he was readying himself to pounce.

If Tonks noticed or registered the danger she was in, it didn't show. She tossed the box a little way into the air and then caught it deftly, turning it in her hand and balancing it on her hip, her eyes never leaving Greyback's and her wand trained squarely on him. Greyback's yellow eyes flickered to the package and then back to Tonks. "Did your mother never tell you not to tease animals, little girl?"

"Nah," she said. "My mum hates animals."

Greyback pounced, and quick as a flash Tonks shot a Stunner at him, lighting up the inside of the shop with a red glare. Greyback shot out of the way, hiding behind a display case of those wretched onyx dragons, and as Tonks threw a Reducto at the case and it disappeared, Octavia shrieked. Remus already had the cupboard door half open when Octavia's hands closed around his arm, pulling him to her. "You said it would be all right," she hissed, her fingers digging into his forearm and the wrist of his wand hand, her eyes alive with pure, unadulterated fear. He struggled against her, desperate to free himself, to help Tonks, to make sure she was all right, but the more he struggled, the more Octavia's fingernails dug into his flesh and she held him steady. "All in a day's work, she said – not a problem for two highly trained members of the Order of The Phoenix – "

There was a clatter, and Remus shot a frantic glance at the doorway just in time to see Greyback lurch across the counter, making a fierce grab for the package in Tonks' hand. Tonks dodged out of his way and Greyback scrabbled against the glass of the counter for purchase as Tonks darted out from behind it, making for the door as she shot spell after spell over her shoulder. Green, gold, blue, red jets of light bounced around the room, careening in every direction, laying waste to wooden trinkets in the shape of nymphs, shattering porcelain statues of fairies and unicorns, and setting a large print of The Lady of Shallot on fire. None made contact with Greyback, though, and he advanced on Tonks, emitting a low, feral growl. Glass and porcelain fragments crunched beneath his feet, and although Tonks' face was all steely resolve, Remus could tell she was scared.

He turned to Octavia, who was still digging her fingers into his flesh. "Let _go_!" Remus said, and managed to free his wand hand. Through the crack in the door he shot a Blasting curse at Greyback, but it missed. A large blue vase decorated with stars and suns and damned full moons to the right of Tonks' head exploded, sending shards of glass in every direction and causing Tonks to duck.

"My shop!" Octavia wailed indignantly, her eyes switching frantically between Remus' face and the room beyond the door. Remus ignored her, shooting another Blasting spell at Greyback's shoulder as he advanced on Tonks, shaking his arm violently to try and dislodge Octavia's pincer-like fingers and get out of the damned cupboard –

Greyback had her pinned against the shelves. Remus fired another curse – Relashio – at Greyback, desperate to get him away from Tonks, but the angle was all wrong, and all it did was knock an ornamental glass hedgehog back against the wall and disintegrate it into thousands of tiny, sparkling shards. He tried again, and although Greyback looked up as Remus' spell caused another glass animal to disintegrate, he kept advancing, and in the mirror behind the shelves, Remus saw him lick his lips. Tonks quickly cast what he recognised as Impedimenta, followed by something else he couldn't identify, her eyes roving the scene, Greyback's position, plotting her next move.

Remus quickly turned back to Octavia. "I have to help her," he said earnestly, scrabbling against the grip she still had on his arm.

"Don't leave me – "

Her face was panicked and she showed no signs of letting go, and the more he struggled to extricate himself, the more panicked she became and she desperately clung to his robes. But Tonks needed help, and Octavia was in no immediate danger – so he made a split-second decision. He shoved Octavia back against the shelves and made for the door – but by the time he flung it fully open, the shop was deserted.

Tonks and Greyback had gone.

* * *

Tonks ran. 

The shopping centre blurred around her – a wash of surprised faces, shop facades, architecture – it all merged into one.

She hitched her skirt up higher around her knees, thanking Merlin that she hadn't transfigured her shoes into something to go better with the long skirt, and still had on her trusty Doc Martins. She careened through the crowd, dodging a pushchair, narrowly avoiding upsetting another outside the bookshop, swerving to avoid a surprised looking pensioner in a flat cap coming out of the newsagents. She barely registered the faces of the people she passed – just enough to see their mouths drop open, them step back against the walls and mercifully out of the way, but she could hear the gasps, the cries they made to each other to mind their backs.

Her only thought was how busy the shopping centre was, how many people there were here for Greyback to attack. His reputation was beyond unsavoury, his villainy was the thing of nightmarish legend, and all of a sudden she wondered what on earth she'd been thinking leading him into a crowd. But he wasn't going to get the chance to hurt anyone today – not if she had anything to do with it. She hoped he'd be too intent on the chase to even notice the other people that surrounded them. She cast a glance over her shoulder to make sure he was still following – and he was, his lips twisted into something of an unnatural smirk, his hands flexing in front of him as if he meant to grab her, snatch her out of the air. She stumbled a little – nearly lost her footing – and looked back in the direction she was going, hurdling an old lady's two-wheeled trolley with grace she hadn't anticipated possessing, shooting through a gap between two toddlers in identical orange coats.

She didn't know where she was going – she'd thought to lead Greyback outside – maybe through a service or fire exit so they'd be alone and she could finish what she'd started in Octavia's – but just as she thought she spotted a likely opening – a door marked 'staff only' – Greyback's clawed fingers curled around the top of her arm. She tried to fight him off, to keep going, but he was too strong, and he pulled her to a halt, jerking her back against the glass window of a shop selling Muggle electrical equipment that apparently had a half-price sale on.

Tonks quickly weighed her options. She still had her wand, but they were surrounded by Muggles, and there was no way she could surreptitiously throw a spell and get Greyback out without attracting more attention than she no doubt had already.

Greyback leered, his mouth hanging slightly open and his breath hot on her face. He must have known she was out of options. "Now," he said, "I believe you have something of mine."

Tonks hesitated, and Greyback's fingers closed painfully around her arm, his long, yellow fingernails digging into her flesh. She scanned the crowd over Greyback's shoulder, desperately looking for Remus, but he was nowhere in sight. She was on her own. Her fingers tightened on the package. Greyback's tightened on her arm, and she winced. She didn't want to give it up, and yet she seemed to be running out of –

The handbag came out of nowhere, and Greyback seemed as surprised by its impact on his shoulder as she was. He was even more surprised by the blow to the head, and let go of her arm, allowing Tonks to turn her head and see his assailant. To her immense surprise, it was a steel-haired woman with an imposing nose and piercing blue eyes. "Oi," she said, whacking Greyback again with the large carpet bag. "Pick on someone your own size, you big bully!"

Greyback wheeled around to face the woman, drawing his lips back over his teeth, and growled. The woman's thin, grey eyebrows darted up in surprise, but she didn't flinch. "_Well_," she said, sounding more offended than frightened. Greyback advanced on her and Tonks took her shot, shooting him in the arse with a stinging charm. Greyback span back, and for a moment she really did think he as going to use those claw like fingernails to rip her throat out, the look in his eyes was so fierce.

Instead, Greyback made a grab for the package with one hand, pushing her back roughly at the shop front with the other. He darted into the crowd, growling at anyone who got in his way, the package cradled roughly against his chest. Tonks struggled to right herself, and as the grey-haired woman with the well-timed handbag leant forward to see if she was Ok, muttering things about expecting better from a man of his age and something about the police, she assured her she was all right, and then took off in pursuit, throwing a heartfelt 'thank you' over her shoulder.

Greyback was quicker than she anticipated, and surprisingly light on his feet. People seemed to be getting out of his way much more than they had for her, but she was determined to catch him, in spite of the stitch in her side and the pain in her shins from running, hard. Greyback rounded a corner, apparently heading for a department store. As he galloped into the home ware section, Tonks frowned at how incongruous the idea was, but powered on. Just as she was making ground, he disappeared through a fire exit, and it clanged shut behind him. She slammed into the door, but it didn't open, and so she grasped the bar, waggling it frantically up and down, barging the grey painted wood with her shoulder, desperate to have the thing wield under her weight. But it wouldn't. She tried again and again, but her efforts were only rewarded with a hurt shoulder. There was no other choice. Despite the Muggle shoppers she was surrounded by, she pointed her wand at the door. She tried every spell she knew to unlock it – to explode it – to make it disappear. It didn't budge.

Magically sealed. Breathing hard, she slumped against the wall, fisting her hand in her hair.

* * *

Remus followed Tonks and Greyback through the crowd, trying to keep them in sight amongst the bobbing sea of startled shoppers' faces. They rounded a corner, and he went to follow, but a group of teenage goths stumbled out of a clothes shop, laughing, giggling, making fun of each other, and by the time he got round them, Tonks and Greyback were nowhere in sight. He ran a little further, plotting all the alternative routes they could have taken – down the escalators, up the stairs, straight ahead, off to the left – with no idea which way to go. 

He skidded to a halt outside the bakery, and for the first time ever, the smell of freshly baked bread made him want to be sick. He turned around, looking this way and that, but there was no sign of them. People had gone back to quietly going about their business, and there were no tell-tale gasps or the clatter of retreating footsteps to point him in the right direction.

He ran a hand over his jaw, searching the crowd for Tonks' face.

He felt utterly bereft. He had no idea where she was. His heart was beating a warning in his chest. What if Greyback had taken her? What if he'd hurt her? What if she was lying alone and injured somewhere? What if he'd killed –

He flexed and then balled his hands, thinking hard. He had to find her.

To his side, two women – one with very badly-streaked blonde hair, the other with far too many teeth – were arguing noisily about which way it was to Selfridges – left or right – and then the one with the teeth dragged the other over to a large, multi-coloured map on a plinth next to a couple of wooden benches dotted with weary shoppers and their multi-coloured carrier bags.

Remus had the spark of an idea. He waited impatiently for the two women to finish checking that it was, indeed, left, as the one with the badly-streaked blonde hair had said, and then went over to the map.

It was just as he hoped. All of the shops, walkways, everything down to the toilets, were reproduced in miniature on the map in front of him. The spell work needed to turn it into an impromptu Marauder's Map was tricky, and it was risky, performing it in front of this many passers-by – but the spell was so familiar to him that he knew he could do it quickly – hopefully quick enough that any passing Muggle who looked his way would believe it a trick of the light. In any case, he didn't see he had any other choices – by the time he'd trawled the myriad shops, Tonks could be dead. Without giving it another thought, he performed the spell.

The map in front of him glowed for a moment, and then sprang to life, with every shopper now reproduced as a miniature dot. They swarmed over the map, each one utterly indistinct. "Find Tonks," he whispered. A couple of seconds passed, and for a moment he feared it hadn't worked, and then one by one the other dots disappeared.

He ran a hand over his jaw tersely, scanning every inch of the thing, desperate to see the name 'Nymphadora Tonks' in amongst the morass. At last, he saw it. He was in the right section, on the right level – she was just at the end of the long walkway in front of him. With a wave of his hand, the map cleared again. At a pelt, he set off for the shop called Debenhams. She had to be all right. She just _had_ to be.

He skidded to a halt outside the huge window display of mannequins frolicking in a springtime scene, and checked that this was the place. The welcome sign above the door told him that it was, and his heart pounded with something other – more – than plain exertion.

It sank as he took in the shop in front of him. The place was huge, and he was faced by row upon row of shelves of Muggle household appliances – saucepans, frying pans, utensils he'd never fathom the working of in a month of Sundays. But he didn't care about any of that. Tonks' dot had been in here somewhere, near a wall, he'd thought, and he tried to shove images of her pressed against one, struggling against Greyback's hands around her throat to the back of his mind. He just needed to find her.

Frantically he searched, passing rows of neatly-stacked oven trays, racks of oven-gloves in bright, cheerful colours, boxed Muggle contraptions he'd never seen before with women with fake plastic smiles on the front, looking ecstatic to be using the items.

Where was she?

He tried to stay calm. There was no panic in the air, he told himself, these Muggles were just going about their business, and surely if something truly terrible had happened, there'd be more commotion. He tried to take comfort in it, but there wasn't any. He wouldn't feel right until he saw her, until he knew she was safe.

He passed a row of neatly arranged aprons with mildly amusing slogans on, rounded a corner display of scales, and there she was.

* * *

"Remus!" she said, straightening up against the wall. She dashed towards him, taking in all the details of his face as if she'd never seen it before. 

"Merlin I thought you were – I thought he'd – "

His voice was rent with panic, his eyes shining with alarm. They roved her face, studying intently – she supposed searching for injury. "He got the package and he got away," she said hurriedly. "The door was sealed and I couldn't get through. I tried to Stun him, but there were too many – "

Remus dived forward, cutting her off mid-sentence and taking her face in his hands as he drew her to him. His lips pulled hers to his and he kissed her – hard, so hard, in fact, that he very nearly knocked her off her feet. But before she had a chance to stumble or even really register what was happening – that the lips on hers were entirely real and not a figment of her imagination – his hands were in her hair, his fingers urging her to respond, and somehow she found her balance and managed to gather the presence of mind to kiss him back just as fervently.

And the feelings the kiss ignited inside her were very hard to ignore. Her hands raced to his neck, letting her fingers twist in the soft hair at his nape, and as his hands slid down her body and he pulled her closer she nearly collapsed. She'd imagined what it might feel like to kiss Remus a million times, but never, never, had she thought it'd feel like this. Her body jangled – fuelled by adrenalin and pent up feelings she could no longer contain, she ached for more. She was astonished that it was Remus' lips snatching at hers, that it was his hands clutching at her hips pulling her ever closer, him making her feel like _this –_astonished, but so much more than delighted as he set her skin on fire, and melted her insides. He was hungry for her, and it was intoxicating. She didn't think she'd ever be able to get enough.

Gradually his lips slowed, softening their hungry pace to something rather sweeter, but no less sincere, and all of his hesitation, and careful dodging of any mention of them taking things further melted away. She knew it wasn't one-sided, some silly crush she'd developed over the months that they'd known each other, and she hadn't imagined him returning her feelings at all. It was a blissful thought.

Remus pulled away, and she started to smile – but then she saw the look in his eyes – they were beseeching, somehow, although she didn't know for what. The smile fell from her face as quickly as if she'd dropped it.

"I'm sorry – " he said. "That – that shouldn't have – "

"Yes it should."

His fingers tightened a little in her hair, and that seemed to make him realise where they were, and with a glimmer of anguish in his eyes, he removed his hands. He looked away, swallowed hard, and it occurred to her that this was the first time she'd ever seen him this flustered. "We should go," Remus said, his eyes flickering all over the shop – pausing for a moment on the novelty egg-timers, the comedy tea towels, the microwave-safe cookware. "See if we can find him. Which way did he – "

"Merlin, Remus," she said. "He's long gone."

"Still – "

"You just kissed me," she said. "Don't you think that warrants a moment's pause?"

"Tonks, it was – "

"Don't pretend you didn't want that just as much as I did. I could _feel_ it, Remus."

He shook his head, still refusing to meet her eye, even though she ducked her head into his sight line. She didn't understand why he was being like this – how he could kiss her like _that,_ and then get cold feet? She wanted to shake him to make him see how good they could be together, how good they could be for each other. Why couldn't he feel it?

"It was a spur of the moment thing," he said. "For God's sake – I thought you were dead."

"But I'm not," she said.

"I know," he said, and his brow furrowed. He rubbed at the crease between his eyebrows with his forefinger, seemingly on the verge of some desperate internal struggle.

"Don't you think we should make the most of it?" she said, attempting levity in spite of how heavy the air felt around them, in spite of the fact that he still wouldn't look at her. He didn't respond, just swallowed. "I know you like me," she said softly, imploring him to say something. "I _know_ you do."

"It's not – it's not as easy as that," he said, and although he was taking pains to keep his voice calm, she could hear the tremor in it.

She glanced down, and noted his hands balled into fists at his sides, his fingers tightening as he wrestled for his famous control back. "Why?" she said, her voice more imploring than she intended – but she didn't care – all she cared about was him giving up whatever stand it was that he was taking, here in the ludicrous home ware section, and kissing her again, because in that moment, she'd felt invincible. "Why isn't it?"

His eyes slowly turned back to hers, and this time there was a glimmer of fearfulness deep inside them. She couldn't tell if he was afraid of her, or _for _her, or for himself. But he was afraid of something – and whatever it was, it scared him far more than Greyback. "You know why," he said, and his tone was sombre and a little tinged with regret. He looked away again and started to turn.

"No I don't, Remus," she said, reaching for his arm, placing her hand over his elbow in an attempt to make him look at her. "You haven't given me one good reason why we can't – "

"I'm not good enough," he said, and the steel, the conviction, in his voice nearly took her breath away.

He placed his hand over hers, and gently peeled it away from his arm. She was so stunned by his actions that she just let her hand fall limply to her side, and before she could think of a rebuttal, he turned quickly on his heel, disappeared between the racks of saucepans, and was gone.

Tonks stood, getting jostled by irate shoppers, looking at the place where Remus had been for a long time.

She fingered the pack of cards in her pocket, feeling the worn, tatty edges, the battered corners, each imperfection a comforting, cherished memory.

Not good enough.

The words rattled around in her head as she tried to make sense of them. In the past, when she'd hinted that maybe she wouldn't be averse to a shift in their relationship, he'd said things in general about any witch going out with him having to get used to the idea of indoor picnics instead of going _Witch Weekly_'s Wizarding Restaurant of the Month, and making do with hand-made birthday presents. She'd thought that sounded charming – had told him so, hoping that he'd take the hint…. But if he didn't know by now that she wasn't the kind of witch who cared about that kind of thing, she didn't know what she could say.

She should have said something, though – told him that as far as she was concerned, he _was_ good enough. More than good enough. But she'd been so shocked at him thinking that, pushing her away in spite of what she knew he felt, that it hadn't occurred to her to do anything other than stand there, gaping.

Tonks turned to leave. She shuffled through the crowd, trying to swallow the lump in her throat, still fingering the playing cards in her pocket.

She couldn't quite believe how quickly she'd gone from Snap, to snapped.

* * *

**A/N: Anyone reviewing gets to hit Remus with a kitchen implement of their choice in a comedy-stylee. Frying pan or rolling pin would be traditional, but feel free to be inventive ;). **


End file.
